


moment that you want is coming

by Gellsbells



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Dreams, F/M, First Kiss, Heavy Petting, Kissing, Mild Sexual Content, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, Whitelighter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 02:11:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17336720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gellsbells/pseuds/Gellsbells
Summary: "I only appear when you call out, with purpose."Macy calls out for Harry in the middle of the night, but she isn't exactly in trouble.





	moment that you want is coming

Macy knows that she should stop him. That _this_ is a very bad idea, the worst one she has possibly ever had. But the way his fingertips run along her exposed shoulder blade has her keening into his touch and begging for more, despite the objections from her more rational side.

 

But, she has been _so_ patient.

 

As his lips return to hers, and his hand trails over her bare waist,she wonders if he has caught her looking at him the way she does or perhaps, the way she blushes when he compliments her powers, or her baking for that matter.

 

“Macy,” He breathes her name against her lips and she can feel it reverberate through her body. No-one has said her name, quite like that before.

 

His lips travel from her jaw to her neck. Gentle at first, as she had imagined he would be before turning into something more. Something that has her heart rate quickening and her hands pushing and pulling his shirt from his waistband.

 

He finds the junction where her neck meets her shoulder, sucking softly at the delicate skin there and she arches into him, pushing her chest against his as he sighs in approval. Her hands move to the front of his shirt, pausing at each button as she fumbles each button.

 

She feels his fingers trace their way up her to the strap of her bra, slipping underneath, running along underneath until she gives a nod of approval and the strap is pushed from her shoulder.

 

“Harry,” she murmurs as his lips kiss her newly exposed skin, before moving further down.

 

“Harry, I need you,” she exclaims as his fingers dig into her hips and he moves his body over her, pushing her down onto the bed as his lips press urgently against her own.

 

* * *

 

Harry finds himself in her room, her voice ringing in his ears and he is ready to defend his charge. He swore that he would only travel to the Vera-Vaughn household if he heard his name spoken with purpose, but when he arrives and Macy is seemingly safe asleep in his bed he questions his own motives.

 

As he approaches her bedside he notices her laboured breathing, the way the sheet has twisted around her body and he fears that perhaps something has her captured in her sleep. However likely an Ogun Oru or a Kanashibari may be given the current influx of demons to the quiet University town he doesn’t feel any otherworldly presence in the room.

 

“Harry,” she groans again and he spins around to face her but her eyes remain closed. His concern for her grows again before she lets out a breathy moan. When she utters his name again there is no mistaking the intention behind it.

He should leave. But apparently that message doesn’t reach his legs because he feels frozen to the spot.

 

Ever since he had arrived back from Tartarus he had found his thoughts drifting to her, when he didn’t mean to.

 

The way her arms had felt around him when he crashed back to this plain of existence, still feeling the way the heat had consumed him while he was down _there_. She had squeezed him so tight, telling him that she wasn’t going to let him go, that she missed him. That they all had.

 

But the seed had been planted and he found himself looking for opportunities to be in her company, however torturous it may be. Especially when the conversation would drift to Galvin and he would be forced to clench his jaw and smile.

 

Another moan breaks his train of thoughts and his eyes meet hers, now open and staring at him in disbelief. He fumbled for a reason why he was still there. Why he hadn’t orbed away once he could see she clearly wasn’t in any danger.

 

“Harry,” she exclaims clutching the sheet around her body, as she sits up.

 

“You called for me,” he explains, “I came as soon as I could.”

 

“Called out with purpose,” Macy mumbles under her breath.

He notes her quick breathing, her wide eyes, the plumpness of her lips, the way she pulls the bottom one between her teeth, as she watches him.

 

“But,” he starts, trying to ignore the pull in his heart that she may feel the same way. That maybe his feelings may not be unrequited after all, “You are clearly in no danger, so I will-” he raises a hand to snap his fingers and make his escape when she rises from her bed, to grip his arm, stopping him.

 

“Don’t.”

 

He can hear her breath rapidly rising and falling, as he looks from her hand to her eyes. His hand reaches up to cup her cheek, to allow himself just a moment, where this could be true. Where they could be, _something,_ before his better judgement kicks in. There is no love lost between him and the elders since learning of their plan to let him remain there in Tartarus to be torutured for eternity, but he doesn't want Macy to face them, to face their judgement.

 

“Macy, we shouldn’t,” as he goes to pull his hand away she lays hers over his, keeping it in place. He can see the determination in her eyes and knows he has seen that look before and knows that Macy Vaughn is not easily swayed.

 

“You need to tell me to leave,” he can feel himself leaning into her touch, “please.”

 

“I don’t want you to,” she whispers as her eyes flick to his lips, before meeting his again, unwavering.

 

It's all the permission he needs as he closes the distance between them, pressing his lips against hers. She responds in kind, her lips moving against his in a gentle press. Her lips softer and more inviting than anything his mind could have concocted.

 

"I didn't wake you?" she murmurs against his lips and he shakes his head in response.

 

"Couldn't sleep," he admits.

 

Sleep has been hard to come by since his experiences in Tartarus. Most nights are spent alone in his condo. The emptiness of the rooms overwhelm him and he longs for the comfort he felt at the sisters home.

 

Her hands wrap around his waist and he pulls her against him, feeling the softness of her body against his own. Her hands travel up his back, pulling and wrapping themselves in the crisp material of his shirt as their kisses become more hurried and desperate.

 

As he feels her hands tugging the material of his shirt from his waistband, his hands fall over hers to still them, “We don’t have to Macy,” he says softly.

 

“I - I want to,” she says with a nod of her head before she presses her lips briefly against his again. “I want this.”

 

Her hands pull at his shirt, un-tucking it, before tracing their way up his chest, his breath hitching as she begins to undo each button as they travel down. She pushes the material from his shoulders, as the last button is undone, the shirt dropping to the floor. A small gasp leaves her lips and he knows that she has seen the scars. Fighting demons over the years has not been without consequence and these are just the marks you can see.

 

Her fingers trace over them and he watches her carefully in the moonlight that comes in through her window. He waits for the questions that should follow, but they don’t come and he is grateful when she kisses him again, feeling her hands move to his neck.

 

His hands skim up from her waist to her back, the satin material soft underneath his hands. Her breath hitches when his fingers move over the skin of her bare back, tracing the outline of her shoulder blade, before teasing the edge of her top. Slipping underneath the thin strap, to the lace that falls across her chest, earning himself an exasperated groan, as she arches into his touch.

 

"Please," she moans and he his lips press against her skin, tracing the path of his fingers across her shoulder, down her chest, his other hand tightening on her waist as he dips his head lower.

 

"I need you," she moans and Harry lets himself give in as he pushes them both back towards the bed.

 

* * *

 

 

“So, just how frowned upon is the whole whitelighter, witch relationship?” Macy asks as she moves her hand across his chest. The light from the morning sun streaming through the window, her legs tangled in his and a feeling of calm falling over her that she hasn’t felt in weeks.

 

“Very,” Harry answers, as his fingers absently trace patterns on her bare back.

 

“So we should probably keep this between us,” Macy muses, hating that she is even suggesting that she keep something from her sisters, but needing to know exactly what _this_ is before she discloses all.

 

“For now, I think that would be best.” He presses a kiss to the top of her head, and she snuggles into his chest again. Letting the peace take her in.

 

 

 


End file.
